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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23682247">Hand in Hand</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snorp_Lord/pseuds/Snorp_Lord'>Snorp_Lord</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Commissions [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Gavin has issues and feelings, M/M, Platonic Relationships, Prosthesis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:20:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,258</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23682247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snorp_Lord/pseuds/Snorp_Lord</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Gavin has a prosthetic arm, and might be falling for the snarky AI that resides within it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Commissions [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705309</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hand in Hand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Commission from Jupiter over on Discord. They suggested Gavin with a prosthetic, and I kinda ran with it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was bad enough, in the eyes of Gavin Reed at least, to have a ridiculous prosthetic arm with those glowing lights along it. He hated how cliche it looked. Snow-white metal plates broken up by soft blue lighting like a goddamn android. It was too...perfect for him. So meticulously designed and it looked so </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span> attached to his shoulder like that. Even sleeping was annoying with that thing. The power core glowed softly even in the lowest power mode, and he didn’t like to shut it off. That brought its own problems, often including Gavin falling over when getting up for a smoke, the heavy metal dragging his whole body down the second it dropped off the bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other reason he hated powering it off?</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Gavin. How is it treating you today?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>RK900. Built into his arm as a unique way for normal people to better adjust to Cyberlife’s prosthetics. Every adjustment AI was unique, from their appearance to the mild quirks of their personalities. A real technical marvel. More advanced than even the technology that housed it. Normally Gavin would have tried to dig out the witty little bastard with a spoon by now, but that was before he discovered the AI could wirelessly turn on the coffee maker. And as he had adjusted to his arm, he found that RK900’s presence was weirdly nice. The first voice he heard in the morning and the last one at night. If not for the little voice in his prosthetic, he might have gotten rid of the thing altogether.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No worse than the usual, Nines. How ya doin? Find something to do last night?” At least Nines only woke him at eight in the morning, rather than the completely unreasonable </span>
  <em>
    <span>6am </span>
  </em>
  <span>wake up time that he’d been suggesting before. ‘An hour for your physiotherapy exercises. Then time for breakfast, case reviews, and even cleaning before a calm journey to work, instead of your typical manic rush with breakfast still in your mouth.’ Well, it was the best source of exercise Reed got nowadays, so the morning mad scramble wasn’t going anywhere.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Indeed. I read a new novel from your suggestion list, designed a new jacket, and took time to plan a new storage system for your apartment which will maximise space around the television and balcony access, ensuring the two places you spend most of your waking hours are comfortable. You will ignore my suggestions, but perhaps one day you will open the file,” Nines said wistfully, with such obvious sarcasm dripping from his voice that Gavin wondered if it was truly possible to hear a smirk. “I have put on a fresh pot of coffee and called ahead to order you breakfast. Egg and bacon roll. You prefer those on mornings where there are no pending cases you are aware of. Did you notice?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Creepy. Apparently his own arm-bot knew more about his eating habits than he did. “Can’t say I did. Thanks for orderin’ again.” The novel thing was actually Gavin’s idea. Resident AI did not need to sleep, and would only be inactive when the device they resided in was fully shut off. Rarely did Gavin ever keep his arm off, and much less for just a ‘quick rest’. So when he realized he must be condemning the poor AI to hours of silent boredom (and therefore, possibly causing the waspish attitude that he hated so much), he decided to...offer an olive branch. His personal favourite novels, from thrillers to horror to a few sappy romances that Gavin would pretend had been left by an old girlfriend. Having something to read gave Nines more ways to occupy his mind, and their ensuing discussions about what happened were pretty interesting, to him at least. Nines read into things like he was the nerdiest little suck-up in the English class, but he gave views that even had Gavin curious. Many of his old thrillers had gotten a second look after Nines mentioned that the progression of the series’ heroic detective could be a reflection of her killer’s fall into madness, reflected in the state of the bodies found. While Nines caught up on the list night-by-night, he went back and read more. Just so he had some points of his own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Actually- when you said a new jacket- who’s that for? Can’t be you, unless they make little tiny jackets for little tiny arm people. Just...in general, or what?” He poured a generous mug of coffee, bit back a yawn, and smiled as the lights along his arm went yellow. “What does it look like? Run a projection, I wanna see it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright. It’s really nothing special. You inspired me somewhat, so I...here.” The small gap in Gavin’s palm started to glow, then beamed out a blue light. Mini projector. Usually it helped him when looking over case files, but lately he’d been using it to improve his morning conversations with Nines. “This is the jacket I designed.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What interested Gavin wasn’t really the jacket itself, a rather standard leather affair that Gavin himself might buy. No, what he wanted to see was the array of patches sewn onto the back. Several of his favourite bands, a few miscellaneous designs just to fill space, and- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This one’s you.” A simplified version of the prosthetic arm that Nines was housed in, and then nearby it- “This one’s supposed to be me, huh? At least it looks good.” Clearly that was the place most of his attention had gone, a painfully detailed portrait of his head surrounded by intricate blue flowers and twisting vines that framed it perfectly. Easily the largest patch, in the spot exactly between where the wearer’s shoulder blades would be. Prominent. This must have been where most of his time went. Reading a book didn’t take Nines long. Planning cleaning didn’t take Nines long, especially since he knew his plans wouldn’t be used. The jacket had to have taken him hours.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s just a plan. I suppose I don’t quite understand human fashion tastes.” Oh. Clearly he thought Gavin didn’t like it. Whenever he mentioned ‘not quite understanding humans’, it somehow seemed to say ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>but I want to</span>
  </em>
  <span>’. In his eyes at least. The silence had been enough for Nines to assume he’d messed it up somehow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nines, it’s great. I just...didn’t think you’d wanna put me on there. You designed all these other things by yourself?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A little note of smugness entered his voice. “All except the logos. Did I mention I have an art program in my operating system? It’s the most advanced available to any Cyberlife property. And I put it to use.” He then went quiet for a moment, leaving just the hum of various electronics and the slightly janky fridge that had never been replaced. “I have also taken to redesigning the covers for your suggested books. I have a lot of free time. If you would like to look at them later…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gavin smiled to himself. “Sure. If you added me as a dead body or something, though, I’ll pull ya outta my arm and throw ya out the window.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Empty promises, Detective. Now please get ready, you will be late for work if you do not leave within twenty minutes. Oh, and since I know you’re going to say you don’t care- your breakfast will be ready in fifteen.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The smile was gone in record time. “And to think you were being nice for a second there, Nines.” </span>
</p>
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